


It wasn't you, but maybe I wish it was.

by ambientbliss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bruises, Derek cares for Stiles he really does, Gen, M/M, Not really Derek, Potential Triggers, Self Loathing, Sexual Assault, Sexual Content, Violence, mild Self-harm, new Big Bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:48:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6638284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambientbliss/pseuds/ambientbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>UnBeta'd</p><p>Everything seems to be going find in Beacon Hills, until it's not. When Stiles find Derek sneaking into his room he realizes something about himself that he didn't know about. That Derek is more than just his Alpha. But should his Alpha really be treating him this way? </p><p>Something isn't right will Stiles figure it out before their bond is completely ruined?</p><p>I suck at summaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It wasn't you, but maybe I wish it was.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf. 
> 
> Some of these things are not what would actually happen in these types of situations. This is something I had stashed away and decided to share.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr for more fanfic's and other Teen Wolf Stuff!!!
> 
> halestil24.tumblr.com

Everything in Beacon Hills was settling down. Stiles was starting to feel like a normal teenager again. Hell the last crazy supernatural blip on the radar was Peter’s resurrection which creeped him the fuck out but this far he hasn’t show any intention of being evil, but it’s Peter for shit sake. The pack had spent time together. Isaac had started calling it pack nights even though Derek preferred pack bonding. Just last week Isaac, Boyd, Erica, Allison, Scott, Lydia, Jackson and Stiles sprawled themselves out in Derek’s loft to watch a movie. It was a little awkward with Jackson, but Stiles ignored the hurt he felt at Lydia’s profession of love for Jackson when he turned into a wolf.  
Bonding. Sure. Stiles got the point of it, and really it was making all of them closer but it seemed too calm. It set him on edge. Being the only person in the pack without a supernatural link aside from friendship made him feel odd, like he didn’t belong. Stiles would have actually believe that he didn’t belong if it wasn’t for Derek plopping down in the closest seat to Stiles every chance there was. Stiles would have pestered Derek about it but the school year started and pack bonding time was at a low. School had been back for two weeks and the last pack night was the Saturday before school. Everything was falling into a groove until Stiles came home from practice to find his father hunched over a pile of papers in the dining room. “Hey dad you okay?” Stiles was still on the poor man about his eating healthy and he sure as hell wasn’t giving that up.  
John looked up from his papers, glasses in hand. “Hey son. Just a case dropped on my desk. I might want to run it by Derek.” Stiles will never be used to his dad consulting with Derek. “Anything I can help with?” John gave his son an exasperated look which totally meant no, and for once Stiles wasn’t going to push it. 

After dinner Stiles went up to do homework and eventually fell asleep. He was woken at around 1 am by his window being opened. This supernatural shit was going to be the death of him. He stared into the darkness as the figure moved closer to him. The figures eyes flashed a bright red, like the tail lights of the Jeep. Derek. “What the hell sourwolf?” Stiles’s voice thick with sleep. Derek, of course, didn’t respond. He just walked over to the bed and leaned over Stiles.  
The teen’s heart pounded. Derek was closing the distance between the two until their lips were crushed together. Whoa. Stiles didn’t know when it happened, but he found himself being totally okay with this, in fact it had seemed as though his brain was screaming FINALLY. At this point Stiles could safely say that he didn’t know how or when it happened but Derek-Broody-McSourwolf-Hale had became something more to him than just his psuedo-Alpha.  
When Stiles came up for air he didn’t know if he had fallen into an alternative universe or if something was wrong with Derek. Immediately assuming the latter, but before Stiles could get his words out Derek was kissing him again with more aggression. The wolf was pressed against Stiles, holding him down. Stiles was ridiculously turned on by this whole situation, no longer thinking about his movements. A free hand trailed up toward Derek’s hair only to be stopped by a bone crushing grip on his forearm. Okay, no touching the neck or hair. He could feel the bones in his arm creak, he was sure that with just a little more pressure they would snap. “Derek. Let go.” His protest earned him a growl. What the hell? Internally he was panicking. Stiles thought they had moved past the growling as a response, and he was going to have a broken arm.  
The body above him stilled. Stiles’s eyes went wide, then Derek was rushing out of the window. Before Stiles could even question it, his bedroom door was opened and his father stood in the doorway dressed in his uniform. “Hey bud, sorry to wake you. I just got a call. See you later.” Stiles glanced at his alarm clock 1:15 am. “Okay, Be Safe.” With a brief nod the Sheriff was gone and the door shut behind him. There was no way Stiles was going to be able to go back to sleep now. He was too keyed up. At least his father was the explanation for Derek’s hasty exit, but everything else had his head spinning.

********

At school the next morning Stiles felt off, and his lack of sleep was not helping. It was raining so he didn’t have to worry about coming up with an excuse for the hoodie covering his raging purple handprint that decorated his arm. Stiles did his best to carry on as usual. The day had been uneventful, and when he got home he found a note from his father. Another night at the station. “Great, I can catch up on some sleep.” Stiles trudged up the stairs to his bed.  
He was woken again at 1 am that night, then again the next night. Stiles was beginning to look like death warmed over, and under his hoodie was a mosaic of bruises. The whole thing confused Stiles, especially as the occurrences continued. At first it was kissing, and squeezing his arms too hard, then it progressed to rutting against Stiles, which was simply amazing until Derek’s claws stabbed into his ribs just barely missing bone. It still unnerved Stiles the way Derek seemed proud of his handy work, and Stiles choked whine of pain.  
With lack of sleep, Stiles was slowly falling apart. His hands were shaky, his skin was increasingly itchy. He was in the library on his free period with Scott waring with himself. Stiles really liked the physical contact with Derek, god just thinking about him like that had his body reacting, but he was becoming increasingly scared of Derek. Not like he had been when Derek was a mysterious murder suspect.  
No. Now Stiles hated himself because whenever he thought of Derek, or heard Derek’s name his heart jumped momentarily like it used to for Lydia, then instantly it turned into a flare of fear and anxiety. “...iiles… Yo earth to Stiles? HEY!” Stiles jumped when Scott’s hand grabbed his unbruised arm. He forgot where he was until his eyes locked with Scott’s across the table. Concern flooding his dark brown puppy like eyes. “Sorry man. What were you saying?” Stiles shifted in his seat.  
“Just… are you okay?” Stiles knew Scott could read him like a book. “I’m good, just spaced out.” Scott’s face hardened a little. Shit. “Did you take your Adderall?” “What? Yeah why?” Scott’s eye shot down to the arm he was gently holding. Stiles’s eyes followed, landing on the bright red patch of skin where he had shoved the sleeve of his hoodie up and started scratching. Fuck. He thought he had a lid on it. He was okay. “When did it start again?” The worry in Scott’s voice was thick. Scott had been there when Stiles would subconsciously scratch to keep himself grounded when too much was going on in his head. “About two days ago. I’ll talk to dad about upping my Adderall dose again.” He was silently begging Scott not to push anymore, just drop it. Thankfully the other teen seemed satisfied with the answer and when the final bell rung Stiles couldn’t help the relief he felt for being able to escape to his Jeep.

**********

Once again, that night at 1 am Derek came through the window. Stiles tried to prepare himself for what was to come, but there was no way he could have been prepared for this. Stiles hadn’t gone to bed. Instead he was pacing, waiting. When Derek came through the window Stiles braced himself for a kiss like usual. Instead he was shoved face first against the wall. That however wasn’t what had sent the red flags up. The sound of Derek’s zipper was what caught his attention. Panic started tingling in Stiles’s fingers. He was being constricted against the wall and Derek’s chest, he tried to move and Derek’s hand clenched around his neck. SHIT! SHIT!.  
Dere was out, and hard against him. This was not how Stiles had pictured sex with Derek. Then the crushing reality of Stiles not being able to stop him if he tried froze in his chest. “Derek… Please… Don’t…” The words were strangled as the hand tightened around his throat. Limiting his oxygen intake. A little flash of relief hit him when Derek was thrusting against him, not attempting to enter him. Just rut against him.  
Stiles couldn’t tell when it would be over, because Derek made no noises, no nothing. The only thing he got was Derek’s grip tightening, and black dots were swirling in his vision. With a particularly forceful thrust Stiles felt Derek’s grip tighten further, and the last thing he remembers is the warmth Derek spilled on his clothed back before he lost consciousness. 

The next morning Stiles woke up face down on the floor, and his neck was sore. The memory of the night before seeped through the fog in his brain. Stiles immediately out of his soiled shirt and headed to the bathroom. When he left the shower he caught sight of his neck in the mirror. It was an angry shade of red at the base of his neck. Stiles groaned, the dull ache in his head intensifying. Complaining of it’s lack of oxygen from last night. He made a quick decision and crawled back into his bed. The Sheriff didn’t mind him staying home today. “Thank god it is Friday.” Stiles mumbled before the numbness of sleep enveloped him.

********

Stiles woke to his phone ringing. Ugh. His headache was gone but he wanted more sleep. “Hello?” There was a sigh of relief on the other end of the phone. “Stiles, man, are you okay? You weren’t in school today, and not answering your phone.” Before answering Scott, Stiles looked at his alarm clock. 4:30 pm. Holy Shit! “Stiles?” He realized he never responded. “Yeah Scotty boy. I’m good. Had a migraine this morning. Dad said to stay home. I must have slept all day.” Another sigh of relief met his ears.  
“There is a pack meeting at the loft at 5. Something about a case. You weren’t responding to texts. I’m glad you’re okay. Do you need me to come over?” Anxiety tingled through Stiles for multiple reasons. “Nah man, I’ll see you at the loft.” With a mumbled okay, Scott hung up. Stiles flopped back down on his bed. Fuck! He saw all the notifications from Scott. Various “Are you okay?” messages, and “Where are you”. His heart almost stopped when he read the last message and who it was from.

From Derek:  
Scott said you weren’t at school. Pack meeting at 5.

What the fuck! Derek hadn’t said one work to him all week, now he was worried? It made no sense, but Stiles knew he had to go to the pack meeting and there was nothing he could do about it.  
Pulling himself out of bed, Stiles got dressed. Luckily his favorite hoodie covered the choke marks on his neck. The last thing he wanted was to have to explain them to the pack. With shaky hands Stiles drove to the loft, hoping it would be short. 

*******

Half of the pack occupied the loft when he got there. Thank god. He wouldn’t have to be alone with Derek. Stiles found a spot on the two seater couch as the rest of the pack filtered in. Derek made his way over to where Stiles was sitting. He smirked at Stiles. That’s weird. The pack was mumbling amongst themselves when Derek sat down next to Stiles. Their legs brushing. Stiles tensed at the contact, but didn’t look at Derek. He knew better.  
Shortly after, Derek started to talk about the case that John had brought him in on. Bodies were turning up across the county. All between the ages of 17 and 25. Necks all broken. Scott interjected, asking how it was supernaturally linked. “No one struggled. Whoever killed them had inhuman strength. Their necks weren’t just snapped but crushed. Completely crushed. All of the bones were shattered.” Scott started talking again, and Stiles stopped listening. At some point Lydia started talking, and Derek bumped Stiles who almost jumped out of his seat but reigned it in just in time. He found Scott and Derek staring at him. He followed Scott’s eyes down to his wrist.  
Stiles had his fingers shoved up his sleeve and he was scratching again. When his eyes met Scott’s again he silently begged him not to say a word. Thankfully he didn’t, but Derek kept looking at him. Stiles zoned out again, and when he came out of it the pack meeting was over and everyone was leaving. 

“Stiles.” The teen froze where he stood halfway to the door. “Hang back a sec.” Derek had his arms crossed. Panic started to swirl in Stiles’s stomach and chest. “S-sup sourwolf?” he turned toward Derek who stood only 4 feet from him. “What is up with you?” Stiles didn’t know what to say, but he knew this wouldn’t end well. Before Stiles could say a word in response his phone rang. The Sheriff’s number and face flashed on the screen. “Gotta go sourwolf.”  
He practically ran to his Jeep while answering the phone. The Sheriff was working late again so Stiles offered to pick up dinner. It didn’t take long to get dinner and find the Sheriff in his office at the station. Stiles noticed a man and woman sitting in the office with his father. The woman was crying, and he realized how tired his father looked.  
Not wanting to interrupt, Stiles waiting outside the office on the bench until he heard the door open. Deputy Parrish escorted the couple out. “Hey son.” John’s voice sounded gravily from lack of sleep. “I got dinner.” Stiles followed his dad into the office, and shut the door behind them. They set their food out on the desk like always. Stiles was enjoying the orgasm in his mouth that was curly fries when John caught his attention. “Are you okay?” What? Stiles mentally checked to make sure his marks were covered. The last thing he needed was his dad asking about them and putting a wolfsbane bullet in Derek.  
“Yeah, Fine. Why?” John raised an eyebrow. “Because this is a bacon cheeseburger.” John lifts the burger in his hands eyeing Stiles. “You never let me have bacon.” Stiles snorted. Shaking his head. He really didn’t remember ordering that, but he could blame that on Derek. That’s it. Perfect! “I was at a pack meeting when you called. We were talking about the murders and I guess I felt like you deserved some bacon.” Stiles watched as the smirk crept across his dad’s face. “We are not making this a habit.” he was quick to add getting a laugh from the Sheriff.

******

After eating Stiles tried to get more out of John about the case, but there wasn’t much else to know. Except John had been speaking with families all day. Until further notice the Sheriff would be at the station. So Stiles headed home. It was dark when he parked the Jeep and walked into the house.  
As the darkness and emptiness of the house swallowed Stiles he could feel the panic squeeze at his chest remembering Derek at the loft. He scrambled for the stairs, barely making it to the bathroom as he tore away the constricting hoodie and T-shirt. Stiles reached for Scott’s backup inhaler and took a few puffs. His breathing slowly returned to normal, and he splashed cold water in his face for good measure.  
Despite having slept all day, he was exhausted. Stiles sat on the edge of his bed cradling his head in his hands. He groaned as his window opened, knowing what was coming. But something was different. It was only 10pm. He had just looked. Derek always came at 1 am, never before, never after. What the actual fuck. The figure didn’t try to move toward him. When Stiles looked up he was almost concerned that it was Scott or Isaac, but it wasn’t.  
It was Derek who just stood there with his ridiculously perfect green eyes. Stiles frowned. Whenever Derek was in his room he always had his red Alpha eyes. Further what the fuck. He made no attempt to hide his marks, Derek was the one who made them after all. Stiles stood, looking at Derek who just stood there, just staring with confusion in his eyes as they studied each mark. “Stiles, what…” Stiles cut him off with a scoff. “So he finally speaks. What don’t you recognize your own handy work? You seemed so proud of it.” There was meant to be some venom in his voice, but it fell flat.  
Then Derek was in front of him at arm’s length. The wolf’s eyes found the purple handprint on Stiles’s arm. Without thinking he reached out to place his hand over it. Stiles visibly flinched, expecting pain but instead he felt the warm presence of Derek’s hand over his arm. Gently gripping his forearm. It was a perfect match. The hand pulled away instantly as if it had been burned, and was that a whine? Seriously, what the fuck. “Stiles.. I… I didn’t do that… I would never… I don’t remember.” Derek’s voice sounded wrecked. It was the same way he wounded on the anniversary of the fire.  
Something was wrong. So very, very wrong. Different scenarios were running through Stiles’s mind. How could Derek not remember? What caused him not to remember? What happens at 1 am that triggers amnesia in a werewolf? He must have been quiet for too long because he felt Derek’s hand on his arm. When he looked down he was scratching the already abused skin of his other arm. “Say something Stiles damnit. Stop!”  
When Stiles looked up he was met with Derek’s face plastered with worry, and rich dark red crimson eyes. Alpha red. His heart hammered in his chest. It took a moment for his brain to catch up. Those were NOT the same eyes. It wasn’t really him. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. Whatever had been in Stiles’s room was not Derek. Of course not. There was no way and he knew it. From the beginning he knew something wasn’t right. Those eyes. Stiles’s eyes locked with Derek’s now green eyes. Panic written all over his face. “Stiles?”  
His stomach lurched. Stiles turned and ran for the bathroom, slamming the door before losing his dinner. When he was sure nothing else was going to come up he stood and washed his face. “Stiles? Please say something… please.” Derek’s voice was muffled through the door. It was unlocked. Both Stiles and Derek knew the wolf could get in, but he didn’t. “C-Can you get me a shit?” There was a beat of silence. “Yeah.”  
It had been 5 minutes, and there wasn’t even a peep from Derek. Probably ran. I would have too. Stiles left the bathroom and walked back into his room to find Derek frozen. A black shirt from his dresser in one hand, and… Fuck. The green shirt from last night help up in the other. “Stiles, what the fuck is this?” Anger vibrated through the air. Stiles’s hands started to shake. “I..It… It wasn’t you. I know that now. I… I thought it was and…” Derek’s growl cut Stiles off. He was heading to the window. He was leaving. No. No. No. NO. “Derek?”  
“I’m going to find it.” And kill it. Stiles knew that tone, but now that the real Derek was here he didn’t want him to leave. Stiles rushed forward grabbing his arm. Derek froze. “Don’t. Don’t go… please. It’s… it’s like clockwork. It will be here looking like you at 1 am. It will come here.” Derek looked even angrier, and Stiles was scared he would say no. “Okay, but you have to tell me everything. I mean everything.” His eyes dropped to the green shirt, and Stiles wasn’t prepared for Derek’s next words, or how his voice sounded. “I need to know what you thought I would be okay with doing to you.” 

*****

Stiles sat down on his bed, nodding. This was going to suck. Derek sat next to him handing him the black shirt. Stiles felt a little less exposed not bearing all of his marks. “Well it started Monday, you… it… it came into my room. Didn’t say a word, and it… started kissing me. I got the bruise on my arm because I reach up to grab your… it’s hair. It didn’t want me touching it. I said let go but it didn’t. It’s eyes were red, it growled when he heard my dad and left.” Stiles took a deep breath if he wasn’t already, Derek would be disgusted with him. “After that, it would start as kissing, then progressed into rubbing, and that when it’s claws sunk between my ribs. It stayed pretty consistent. It would leave after. Never growling or saying a word again. Last night was the worst.” A tear slid down Stiles’s cheek and he still refused to look at Derek.  
“There was no build up to it. I was slammed face first into the wall. It unzipped its pants, and his hand was around my neck. I could barely breath.” Stiles’s voice began to shake. Derek interrupted. “Please tell me you… you didn’t…” He couldn’t get the words out, so Stiles continued. “I didn’t want that to be how it happened. I tried to get away but it’s hands tightened. I begged you… it not to.” There was a pained whine that pierced the air. Stiles’s eyes snapped up to Derek’s who look like he was clenching his jaw so hard it would snap. “Hey. Stop. It wasn’t you. I know that. It didn’t actually do it. It just choked me and rutted against me until he came on my shirt and I passed out. I woke up on the floor this morning.”  
Stiles still didn’t want to look at Derek. He knew as soon as the shock wore off the disgust would break whatever bond they had. Stiles hadn’t realized he had been scratching again until Derek gently grabbed his hand, stilling the fingers. “Why do you do that? This is the third time today.” Derek didn’t sound disgusted, but worried. Stiles coughed past the lump in his throat. “When there is too much going on in my head and my Adderall isn’t working my skin feels like it is vibrating. Scratching makes it stop. I don’t even realize I am doing it.” Stiles fell silent. Aside from the Doctor, Scott and John, now Derek knew. But Derek never removed his hand from Stiles’s.  
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but they sat there is silence. Stiles didn’t know what to say or even how to tell Derek that he wanted it to be him. He really did. Not hurting him, but kissing him. Touching him. Then Derek broke the silence asking what Stiles wished he wouldn’t. “Why… Stiles… Why did you let what you thought was me do that? What made you think I would want to do that to you?”  
And there is was. The rejection Stiles never knew he was afraid of. His heart thudded in his chest, he knew Derek could smell the sadness flooding out of him but couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want to stop it. Stiles hadn’t realized how much he felt for Derek until this moment. “Derek, I... “ Before Stiles could finish Derek let out a growl. When he looked up he was the red eyes out the window. The wrong red eyes. Before Stiles could do anything Derek was out the window after the creature.

*******

Stiles was starting to pace. It felt like hours since Derek chased the other him out the window. There were so many thought running through his mind. The realization that it wasn’t Derek, then the Derek’s rejection, and now the thought that the impostor could kill Derek, and he would be alone.  
He almost had a heart attack when Derek came back through the window. His shirt was torn a little but no apparent injuries. “Derek?” His voice was barely a whisper, but the man in front of him would hear it. Derek’s eyes flashed crimson red. “Stiles.” The teen released the breath he didn’t remember holding and sat down on the bed before he fell down, relief rushing through him. “What happened?”  
Derek sat next to him. The wolf was tense. “I killed him. I ripped his throat out. I was so angry. It has been the thing killing people Stiles. It was going to kill you.” Stiles huffed. He had figured as much as soon as he figured out it wasn’t really Derek. I wish it would have. Derek growled, and Stiles jumped. “Don’t ever say that again.”  
Stiles hadn’t realized he had said that aloud. “Sorry.” He heard the wolf sigh. “Stiles, why would you ever think that?” He was going to have to explain himself. Why the hell not I’ve already been broken once tonight. “Because I am a fucking idiot. I thought it was you… I thought… I don’t know when it happened but I stopped wanting Lydia. I started w-wanting someone else. I wasn’t going to question it. Not when it happened and I liked it. I thought maybe, just maybe I would be actually wanted by someone I wanted. Then it wasn’t you, and I got the rejection I wasn’t even aware I was afraid of.. So… yeah.”  
There was silence between them. Stiles expected Derek to get up and leave, but instead he spoke. “Stiles when I asked you why you thought I would want to do that to you I meant hurt you like that, take advantage of you.” He took a deep breath. “Stiles if you ever told me to stop or let go… Stiles I wasn’t rejecting you. Why do you think I have been always within touching distance at pack nights?”  
Stiles was shell shocked. “What?” His eyes met Derek’s. The wolf leaned forward and pressed his lips to Stiles’s. It was so gentle and so different, and Stiles just went with it. Before he knew it Derek was above him, he was on his back one hand on Derek’s side and the other on his shoulder. They had come up for air a few times, and Stiles fought the urge to let his hands trail up anywhere. His fingers tapped absently at Derek’s shoulder. He froze when Derek grabbed his arm. Instead of squeezing the wolf deposited Stiles’s hand on the nape of his neck. Taking a change, Stiles threaded his fingers through Derek’s hair.  
Stiles will never admit the way his body pressed into Derek’s when Derek moaned into his mouth. In a flash Derek rolled so Stiles was on top of him, and he was reattaching his lips to Stiles’s neck. Kissing and licking at the choke marks, then sucking his own mark onto Stiles’s neck. The whine that left Stiles made Derek freeze. “Stiles…” The teens response was to press his lips to Derek’s.  
God, he didn’t want to, but Stiles slid off of Derek and laid on his back gasping for air. “I wasn’t rejecting you. I’d never hurt you to get myself off Stiles.” Stiles breath was shaky. “I know. What does this make us?” There was a silence. Stiles hated the silence. There was too much time to thing. “Taking it slow. You should sleep because you need it. I won’t leave, not unless you tell me to.” Stiles nuzzled his head onto Derek’s chest, letting Derek hold him, and breath in his scent. Burying his nose into Stiles’s hair. His last waking thought was how good it felt to hear Derek say he was safe.


End file.
